


The Past Is Catching Up

by leopardchic79



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hearing Emma's confession of love for Neal, Hook slinks away to lick his wounds. Peter, of course, finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past Is Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers for season 3, episodes 5 & 6.**
> 
> This was my day 4 participation in mini_Nanowrimo. I blew past my quota of 150 words. This is also my first Once Upon a Time fic & I intended for it to be more Hook/Charming centric, but unsurprisingly, Peter hijacked things. If you want to go solely by their alleged ages, than be warned...this includes some underage action. I don't really see Once's Peter as a kid though...but more some sort of evil creature masquerading as a teenager. Also...it's a bit dub-con-ish, but probably not in the way you're thinking...

Despite Emma’s desire to push on and continue looking for Henry, she eventually agreed with her parents’ advice that they stop for a few hours and rest. Then they could regroup and enact their plan to invade the Lost Boys’ camp and find her son. She was quick to pair off with Neal to discuss what she had confessed in the cave and Hook found himself wandering away from the two couples quickly, eager to put some distance between them and be alone. 

Of course, he knew from experience that one was never truly alone in Neverland. There was always someone or something watching, but for the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t wander far, but far enough that he couldn’t see or hear his companions. He sat on the ground, back against a tree and pulled out his flask of rum. Clichéd though it may be, he was eager to drown his sorrows over Emma and forget this whole Echo Caves-confession incident had ever happened. Were he more confident in how she felt about him, he might make more of an effort to do something about it. But he’d heard what she’d told Neal to break open his cage and there was no competing with that. Even if she did partly wish that he had stayed dead. 

Being noble and offering to help rescue Henry had definitely turned into more than he’d bargained for. Maybe he’d done it because he’d been tired of being angry and looking for revenge for so many years. Maybe he’d hoped to be just a sliver of the same man he’d been so many years ago. But a big part of him had done it for Emma. And despite the passionate kiss they’d shared, he didn’t see a future for the two of them in any way. 

Now, he was stuck in a place he’d never wanted to be again, on a hopeless mission to attempt to save the son of the woman he loved from an ancient, psychopathic being masquerading as a teenager. So he didn’t feel particularly bad about sneaking away from the family of do-gooders to drink for a few hours. However, the rum ran out quickly and he finished what was there in a few swallows and then angrily tossed the flask aside. Scowling, he shut his eyes and dropped his head back against the tree. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I wish I had more to drink.” 

It was mere seconds before he felt a cool, glass bottle materialize in his hand and seconds after that when he felt a warm touch on his wrist and hot breath against his ear. 

“Drink up, Killian.” 

He should’ve known better. Summoning what was left of his strength, he opened his eyes to scowl at Pan, but of course he was on the opposite side of where he’d heard his voice. His ability to disappear and reappear had always been disconcerting, but even more so when Hook had been drinking. 

“What do you want?” he muttered angrily. 

Pan was kneeling next to him now, a look of feigned innocence on his youthful face. “I’m merely here to provide you with what you've wished for.” 

“Are you a genie now?” 

He threw the bottle away, happily satisfied by the sound of broken glass. But his smug smile faded quickly when he felt another bottle materialize in his hand. A quick glance down confirmed that it was more rum, and not only that one but several other bottles sat next to him, shining temptingly in the moonlight, waiting to be opened and drank. 

Pan beat him to it, taking the bottle from his hand and unscrewing the lid. “Are you sure you want to throw it away?” He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long swallow, eyes locked on Hook’s as he drank. 

“Aren’t you a bit young for hard liquor?” Hook snapped. He desperately wanted to take what Pan was offering him, and quite honestly he knew that he would. It was only a matter of moments. But he could at least put on a show of resisting. 

Pan’s eyes flashed in annoyance at his words; he knew exactly what Hook was doing. Like they had so many times before, his eyes went dark briefly with something dangerous and deadly. Something primeval and terrifying that Hook knew he shouldn’t mess with. Despite the way he looked, Peter Pan was no mere teenaged boy. 

He disappeared again but only for a split second. When he reappeared he was in Hook’s lap, straddling his legs and leaning in close. He brought the bottle to his lips again and drank deeply, eyes never once looking away. And Hook was powerless to do anything but stare back, suddenly breathless and very unsure if the desire itching in his veins had anything to do with alcohol. 

“I could’ve given you more sooner, Killian,” Pan murmured, voice low and all kinds of tempting. “You should’ve taken my deal and killed the prince.” He leaned in closer, one hand pressed against Hook’s chest, the other still tightly closed around the bottle. His breath was warm and damp and smelling sweetly of rum. “Would’ve saved you that embarrassing confession of love in the caves. Would’ve saved you from being in this position now.” 

Hook’s heart beat had quickened and he dug his fingers into the ground, desperately trying not to reach for the bottle...or Pan. “Maybe I like being in this position,” he quipped, dismayed to hear his voice sound so husky and needy when he’d been going for sarcastic. 

Pan, of course, capitalized on it immediately. His eyes widened appreciatively and he smirked. “I know.” He pressed in closer and brushed his mouth across Hook’s lightly. His lips were still wet with rum and Hook simply couldn’t help licking his own as Pan pulled away, breathing in sharply at the taste of the alcohol. 

“More?” 

And Hook knew what his answer was even if he didn’t want to voice it. Briefly, he thought of Emma and her parents and the quest to save Henry and how he had been so sure that he wouldn’t end up back here again. Not here in Neverland, but _here_...within Pan’s grasp and under his all-too-seductive spell. 

Resigned, he nodded and reached out to take the bottle from Pan’s hands. He pulled it away with a smirk at the last minute, but made good on his promise anyway and brought it to Hook’s lips. He tilted it back and let Hook drink deeply, laughing lowly as he leaned in and whispered into his ear. “You try too hard to resist what we both know you want, Killian. Why bother?” 

Hook wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle, closing his fingers over Pan’s. He turned his head so they were face to face again and took another drink, the rum undeniably sweet as it burned its way down his throat. Sweeter still was the way Pan didn’t pull his fingers away from Hook’s touch, and the way he slid his other hand to the back of his neck, nails dragging across his scalp. 

The rum was delightfully strong and went to his head in no time. And all the while his vision was filled with Pan’s youthful face, smirking at him as he danced his fingers over Hook’s skin, his eyes alight with hungry, cruel, seductive charm. He was just as Hook had remembered and he wondered again why he had agreed to come back to this island. This island that had killed his brother and later most of his crew. This island that had used all of his weaknesses against him and had left him bitter and shaken more so than anything ever had. Even losing Milah and vowing to kill Rumplestiltskin hadn’t drained him the way Neverland had. It had at least given him purpose. Neverland was nothing but a haze of horrors, being more drunk than sober most of the time, loss, pain, regret and more than anything, Pan. 

Escaping the first time had been a breath of fresh air. He didn’t know if he’d be able to manage it twice. 

“Peter...?” He hated how needy and weak and wanting his voice sounded. More than that he hated that he’d used Pan’s first name. It implied an intimacy that he had never, ever wanted but had been granted against his will. 

“Hmm?” His lips were on Hook’s neck now, warm and wet and all too tempting. 

“I hate you.” 

Peter laughed and pulled back a little so he could look into Hook’s eyes again, his own bright and mischievous and heated. “I know.” He surged forward at that and crushed their lips together for a deep, hungry, searing kiss. 

Hook didn’t want the kiss, but he returned it eagerly, already half-drunk on Peter’s strong rum and more so on the taste of Peter. He was just as Hook had remembered...intoxicating and so very, very sweet. He dropped the rum in the grass and gripped tightly to the back of Peter’s neck, keeping him right where he was so he could kiss him hard and deep and desperately. He wrapped his other arm around his slim frame, not caring if his hook dug into his back. He knew from past experience that Peter wouldn’t care either. Peter bit his lower lip, tongue quick to soothe before he bit him again. Hook tasted blood and didn’t care, fingers tugging hard on Peter’s hair as he kissed him more deeply, tongues tangling, lips bruising. 

He had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but when Pan finally pulled away, Hook only knew that it was too soon. Even though he hated it, hated _him_ , he was already addicted again and wanted more. So much more. 

“Peter...” His voice was shaky and breathless, and when he reached for Peter again, he came up only with air. 

Pan had vanished from his lap to stand in front of him instead, a smirk on his bruised lips. His eyes were positively sparkling with triumph. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Captain. You can keep the rum.” 

And then he was gone. 

Hook wasn’t exactly surprised. Pan was, among other things, a tease...especially when he knew it would achieve exactly what he had wanted. Hook was left broken and wanting, feeling trapped again in a way he hadn’t in such a long time. And he was questioning exactly why he was here. He’d be little help to Emma like this, and that had ultimately been Pan’s goal. Cursing himself for failing to resist temptation again, he finished off the bottle that Pan had opened and threw another one against the same tree. He felt empty and hollow and if his fingers shook when he opened the next bottle he didn’t care because at least no one else was around to notice. 

When he heard a twig break in the woods nearby he tensed and sat up a little. His head was swimming with rum – and leftover thoughts of Peter – but he tried to focus on the surrounding jungle to see who or what had made the noise. A part of him was desperately hoping that Peter had come back...the rest was terrified at the thought. Terrified and furious. He grabbed another bottle of rum and threw it in the direction he thought he’d heard the branch break. 

“It’s just me!” Someone called out...someone sounding suspiciously like Emma’s father. “Would you stop throwing bottles?!” 

Hook wondered if he had passed out, because the last person he expected to see was indeed, Prince Charming himself, stepping out from behind a tree, palms out, looking warily at him. But it only figured that he would be here now, probably ready to lecture him for wandering off and getting drunk in the jungle. 

“What are you doing here?” he slurred. He wanted to sit up and face him, but found that if he moved his head too quickly, the jungle seemed to spin a little. He kept his head against the tree instead and watched David suspiciously. 

“Looking for you.” 

“Why?” 

“You wandered off and we were...worried.” 

Hook smirked at that and took another sip of rum. “Were you now?” 

David didn’t answer his barb, but he didn't say anything else right away either. He sat down next to Hook instead and looked at him a little sadly. The silence that crept up was definitely uncomfortable and David looked like he had no idea what to say. Hook had the uneasy feeling that he’d been hiding behind the trees for more than just the past few minutes. 

He looked away and traced his fingers over the half-empty rum bottle. “You saw...didn’t you?” 

David spluttered a little, clearly unsure of how to answer, but he finally sighed and nodded. 

Hook felt his cheeks heat and he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know why he cared what David thought about him - David had made that quite clear already. But he’d been hoping to win at least a little of the other man’s respect. He _had_ saved his life after all. And it had less to do with wanting David to like him because of Emma and more just because he begrudgingly found himself liking the prince and wanting his approval. He doubted that would happen now. 

“He’s good at preying on weaknesses, isn't he?” David asked. He didn’t sound disgusted or disappointed but...sympathetic. 

Hook opened his eyes slowly and tried to clear his head, nodding in response. “That he is.” Sighing, he handed the bottle of rum to David. “Take this away from me before I drink it all. Have some if you want.” 

David frowned but took the bottle. “Are you sure it’s safe to drink bottles of rum that appeared out of thin air?” 

Hook laughed humorlessly and pulled one of his knees into his chest. “Pan wouldn’t poison you like that, if that’s what you’re asking. He’d be much more creative and cruel about it.” 

David didn’t ask him to elaborate...but they both knew that he was talking about his brother. Pain flashed across his features before he could hide it, but David didn’t say anything silly like that he was sorry. Hook was grateful, because it was long past and not something that could ever change. 

“How long were you trapped here before?” he asked instead. 

Hook shrugged. “No idea. Time isn't exactly normal on this island.” 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Did he always...torment you this way?” 

Hook raised an eyebrow at that and smirked a little, amused by David’s awkward phrasing. “Yeah...you could say that.” 

He sighed at David’s continued look of concern  & looked up at the sky. 

“Peter is all cruelty and calculation and definitely not the teenaged boy he’s masquerading as. But sometimes it’s easy to forget that. Sometimes he’s...just what you need just when you need it.” He paused, remembering a few moments, a few nights that he was never going to share with anyone. “Of course everything he gives you - the things you think you need? They all come with a price and it’s always too high.” 

“Does he have any weaknesses? Any vulnerabilities that we could use to our advantage?” 

Hook hesitated, thinking back again, memories jumping unbidden before his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if he’d simply stayed & let himself forget everything & everyone else if he’d be happier now. Mindlessly doing anything Peter wanted him to... 

“Hook?” 

He shook his head and fixed David with a dry glare. “Any vulnerability he’s ever showed me,” and there was one night in particular that he recalled with perfect accuracy...all wide eyes, kiss-bruised lips and flushed, sweat-dampened skin, “Always turned out to be a lie. The only thing he knows about vulnerability is how to exploit it in others.” 

He had blushed at the memory that had jumped unbidden into his head and hoped that David hadn’t noticed. It was another one that he wouldn’t ever be sharing. With anyone. With a little luck he’d manage to forget it completely. 

Feeling restless and embarrassed he sat up a little, ignoring the way his head spun. He’d manage it...he’d certainly been drunker before. 

“So you’ve found me. Are you taking me back to camp now?” 

David shook his head. “I think we can rejoin them in the morning. You can sleep off the rum and--” 

“Peter?” he supplied. 

David frowned at him and shook his head again. “Not what I was going to say but maybe that’s a good idea.” He shifted slightly so he was also leaning against the tree and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Why are you being so nice to me all of the sudden?” Hook asked. “I thought I was a horrible, cheating, no-good pirate?” 

David shrugged. “You may be…but I think somewhere underneath all of that you’re also a good person. Maybe just a little lost.” 

“Is that your opinion or your wife’s? She seems to like taking in strays.” 

David sighed. “Maybe if someone believes in you a little bit you’ll lose the need for rum and all of your sarcastic armor.” He paused and turned a little so he could meet Hook’s eyes. “You did save my life after all.” 

Hook could only look at him for a few moments before needing to turn away. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with that look of tentative hope and gratefulness in David’s eyes right now. He certainly didn’t feel that he deserved it. 

“Besides,” David went on. “I was planning on bringing you back to camp tonight, but I don’t want Emma to see you like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Drunk. Miserable,” he answered bluntly. “Despite my…misgivings, she seems to like you to a certain extent. And I know she appreciates your help in finding Henry.” 

Hook stared at him for a little bit and then narrowed his eyes. “You are nauseatingly noble. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

David laughed and shook his head before leaning back against the tree again. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll keep watch.” 

Hook wasn’t sure that sleep would come easily or at all, but it was nice to be able to close his eyes for a few moments without feeling like he had to constantly be on his guard. Maybe David didn’t like him very much yet, but something had shifted between them tonight. He knew he didn’t approve of him as far as Emma was concerned, but Hook figured if _he’d_ had a daughter _he_ wouldn’t have approved of him either. It didn’t matter anyway since Emma was clearly still in love with Neal. But maybe a tentative friendship with Prince Charming wouldn’t be all bad. He’d never be able to replace his brother, but it might be nice to have someone looking out for him again. 

He had no idea if they’d ever make it off of this island alive – and sadly, he knew that David had no way to leave without dying. He also didn’t know that he’d be able to resist Peter if he came looking for him again – and he was almost positive that he would. But while they were here, maybe he could find some way to help Emma save her son. Whether he ended up leaving Neverland again or not he didn’t know, but maybe he could do a little bit of good while he was here. 

When they left and rejoined the others in the morning, he left all of the rum behind. He pretended that the look of pride in David’s eyes didn’t affect him, but he felt his cheeks redden slightly as they walked away. 

Luckily, he didn’t see the figure lurking in the tree branches above them, watching carefully and frowning as his gift was left on the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been beta'd so any mistakes are my own. Graciously translated into Russian by SirCookieBag here: http://ficbook.net/readfic/1385210.


End file.
